Forgiven
by Ayoshen
Summary: It's been a while since the world had gotten to see a smile as genuine as this one from the infamous number Thirteen. A series of twelve short Cameron/13 song!fics. From humor to angst, G to M rated, there's pretty much everything I could think of.
1. Why Not Me

**Author's Rather Important Note!: **I've been working on this project of mine for the past fourteen days and I didn't want to submit it until all stories were done. You see, my favorite band, Within Temptation, have just released a new album full of such exquisite **win** I decided to write a Camteen songfic for each and every new song there was. Insane, you say? Probably. Hard? As hell. Unbelievably fun? Undoubtedly!

Some of the fics fit the lyrics more, some not at all. From almost like canon to utter absurdity, natural to terribly OOC, from humor to AU and lots, _lots_ of angst. Timeline randomly changes with each ficlet and I, in fact, have only a vague idea about which _season_ they take place in, but Chase and/or Foreman's existence is denied in most of them. I didn't write these in order (more like sort of backwards, actually…) so when it gets crazy and/or lame, you'll know that's where I was running out of ideas. If you feel like you've got your period while reading this series, do not worry, it's my fault entirely. Or you just got your period. You never know.

**If you want to experience this series as intended, listen to each song as you read its respective short fic.** Besides, the songs kick major ass. Oh, and **English is still not my native language. :( I sincerely apologize for any grammatical errors.  
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><p><span>1. Why Not Me<span> (Prologue)

**Genre:** Romance/semi-kindofhumor that makes you giggle?

**Rating:** Completely PG, I promise.

**Warning:** Utter silliness ahead. Reader discretion is advised. Sense – this thing makes absolutely none. Proceed at your own risk.

_S__ome may call it a curse,_

_A life like mine_

_But others_

_A blessing_

"Oh no, I let it go!" She could hear the familiar voice all the way up to her cabin on the Ferris wheel. Usually, the voice was associated with irritating things to come, such as a patient file or a tournament in verbal insulting. Interestingly enough, this time, it sounded as if someone stepped on the tail of a puppy.

"It's just a balloon, Allison," the Australian sighed loudly. Apparently, he was the one stricken by the irritating part. She couldn't help but giggle as she watched the scene.

"But I won it myself," Cameron whined. She refused to move from the spot and glanced back at the runaway string.

"We'll get you another one, I'm sure there are plenty of unicorn-shaped balloons around here."

"It was a zebra!" If voices could pout and compete in it, hers would have won outright.

She tried to keep herself from bursting out laughing. She couldn't believe the always calm and collected Allison Cameron would make such a fuss over a balloon. Then again, she _had_ won it herself! Oh God, this was too good to be true. If she were a really bad girl, she would tell House about this as soon as possible. But she decided to consider that later, right now, there was a show to watch.

She noticed the naughty plastic bag drifting dangerously close to her cabin.

_Someone has to take a stand against evil_

_Why should it not be me?_

She sighed and rolled her eyes. She knew she was going to regret this one way or another, but letting this opportunity go would be just plain _evil_, an attribute she couldn't forgive while with a sad little kitten like Cameron. It was the manipulative, childish sulking kind of sad, but it surely worked.

"Is it a bird? Is it a plane? No, it's Thirteen; here to capture all balloons on the loose," came from behind the two doctors.

"You got it!" Cameron glomped the young woman, almost running her over in the process.

"You're grateful, I get it, just take the damn thing already before it flies off again!" cried Thirteen's muffled voice from somewhere under Cameron.

"That was very nice of you," the delighted blonde said when she finally took the string and tied it around her wrist, at which Chase gave Thirteen a thankful nod. The woman nodded sympathetically in return.

She shrugged. "I was there and your whining could be heard for miles. So, a zebra, huh?"

"I like zebras."

"Yeah, they're similar to unicorns." Thirteen grinned.

Cameron pursed her lips. "You be quiet!" she hissed before chuckling at the other woman's impish grin. Whatever, she was used to people mocking her.

She leaned in and gave Thirteen a peck on the cheek.

"You do realize this could be easily misinterpreted, especially with a mindset like mine, do you?" Remy responded, brushing her fingers against the spot where the blonde's lips had touched her.

"I might." The air around got strangely thick for a second.

Suddenly, Chase felt a little left out. He cleared his throat. "So, um, what are you doing here, alone, anyway?"

Uh-oh.

_It's certainly a lonely life_

_But a fulfilling one at best._


	2. Shot in the Dark

2. Shot in the Dark

**Genre:** Romance/Drama/Fantasy/AU/Angst/Idon'tevenknowwhatthisis

**Rating:** M for some sexy tiems and character death in a very non-lethal way, I promise. Pinky promise. That's sacred, you know. (And no, it's not what you just thought of, either, sick, sick reader. Or was it just me? Moving on…)

_I've been left out alone _

_Like a damn criminal_

_I've been praying for help _

'_Cause I can't take it all_

_I'm not done_

_It's not over_

In the middle of the night, the wooden cottage stood still observing the quiet village down in the valley, haunted by dark spirits circling it and trying to possess all living things. Yet the atmosphere inside was surprisingly pleasant; fire was cracking in the fireplace, sending its tiny spark messengers out to comfort and warm its creator and her tabby cat companion as a gesture of gratitude. There was a subtle knock on the door, interrupting the woman's prayers. Not urgent, not menacing, but it attracted enough attention for her to recognize her visitor. It was a friend. A very good friend.

As soon as the door opened, the two women's eyes met, and they stared at each other speechlessly in astonishment before their lips clashed in a deep, passionate kiss that made both the flame in their hearts and the hearth burst. Allison stumbled backwards and her back hit the wall, but she didn't care. She was entirely focused on her knightess in glossy armor, whose touch felt like fireworks and tasted like sweet melting snowflakes; almost _electrifying_. She moaned as the other tore off her dress and grazed Allison's neck with her lips and positioned her leg between her thighs.

What they were doing, they didn't know. All they knew was that they were breaking every single rule of God's will and they would be punished, that they would both rot and fry in hell for all eternity for the grave sins they had committed against Him, willingly. They succumbed to their deepest desires; their weakness. They deserved to be banished. There was no place in the kingdom of heaven for ones such as themselves.

_Now I'm fighting this war_

_Since the day of the fall_

_And I'm desperately _

_Holding on to it all_

_But I'm lost_

_I'm so damn lost_

At the same time, they were aware they had no one to blame but themselves, and they did. Allison was ashamed that she wasn't strong enough to push Remy away. Remy was ashamed of not being able to stop her hands from caressing the blonde's breasts. But in the end, all that mattered was there and then, the frightening, foreign feeling of belonging and righteousness.

Until Allison felt the scars on Remy's back. Tears welled up in her eyes. "Why did they have to do that to you?" she asked, even though it was more of a rhetorical question. She knew the answer very well.

_In the blink of an eye_

_I can see through your eyes_

_As I'm lying awake_

_I'm still hearing the cries_

_And it hurts_

_Hurts me so bad_

The brunette lifted her chin with a light touch and looked into her eyes meaningfully. "Thou art not to blame."

Her gaze was met only with confusion and fear. "Why hath the Lord forsaken us?"

Allison buried her head in the crook of Remy's neck. She still didn't let the tears escape. She wasn't sure of anything, whether she was alive or dead, whether all this had a purpose, but she felt poisoned and she felt the poison spread into her heart. Remy kissed her forehead and caressed the golden locks of her hair soothingly. "How is it wrong to act on desire when we be both suffocating from it, when it harmeth no one?" she whispered to herself.

_And I'm wondering why _

_I still fight in this life_

'_Cause I've lost all my faith_

_In this damn bitter strife_

_And it's sad_

_It's so damn sad_

They held each other for a long time, together yet alone with their thoughts. Just as they were beginning to forget shattered fragments of their troubles, the door burst open once again, this time by force, as entire pack of guards rushed in with swords and pikes.

"Here the witches reside!" spoke a villager amidst the lake of metal giants.

"What is thy bidding, Sir Chaseton?" a soldier asked as the two women stood frozen.

"Let them burn!"

'_Cause your soul is on fire_

_A shot in the dark_

_What did they aim for_

_When they missed your heart?_

Their hands were tied, their necks were strangled, and their feet numb. The light of the bonfire pierced the twilight's thousand eyes in a ruthless duel, but no cries could be heard; not once until the morning.

_I feel you fading away_

_I feel you fading away_

Cameron woke up with a jerk, breathing heavily. She squinted at the sunlight and looked around in panic, confused by the sudden reality shift. She wasn't in pain. She was alive! Moreover, she found her lover sprawled across the bed, sound asleep and snoring quietly. She let out a huge sigh of relief before lying back down and snuggling up to the slumbering doctor.

"Call off thy troops, this one's mine," she mumbled as she embraced Remy from behind and went back to sleep.

_I breathe underwater_

_It's all in my hands_

_What can I do?_

_Don't let it fall apart_

_A shot in the dark_

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><p><strong>Author's Posthumous Note:<strong> Is it just me, or is anyone else thrilled – and disturbed – by the possibility that somehow, somewhere, in a slightly different time (I was thinking 15.-16. century England), this story… may have happened?

Also, I stole a line (the good one) from The L Word. I know, I'm lame, but I just, I liked it so much! I apologize deeply for such plagiarism and my own inability to form coherent sentences. ;_;

I realize the early modern English bits sound terribly awkward in the middle of 21th century style sentences, but it sounded like a good idea… And after all the websurfing it took me to make those up correctly, I refuse to delete them, lol.


	3. In the Middle of the Night

3. In the Middle of the Night

**Genre:** Romance/Angst

**Rating:** M for some not graphic but still sexy tiems with a very, very slight hint of almost-maybe-in-a-million-years rape.

_I've been walking this road of desire_

_I've been begging for blood on the wall_

_I don't care if I'm playing with fire_

_I'm aware that I'm frozen inside _

_I have known all along_

"It's almost midnight. Go home, Cameron."

"Why? It's not like you have a problem with staying up late."

"Because I want to kiss you."

"Why is that?"

"Because you do that to people."

"How exactly?"

"My God, you're annoying!"

"Then why do you want to kiss me?"

"It has nothing to do with you as a person, okay? I've got my needs. Just go home._"_

"I think you're lying. You need me."

"I need anything that will take away the pain."

"So do I."

"So, we're looking for the same thing, but we're not going to find it in one another."

"We already have, tonight."

"Which was awkward and cannot happen again."

"And what if I let you kiss me?"

"Don't."

It had been two months and six days since the two of them sealed the silent pact of wordless love. It had been two months and six days since the strange encounter, previously thought to be highly unlikely to ever happen, in a club they had both visited for the same purpose – a distraction. Different problems, same solution. It had been two months and six days since they found out there was no Great Wall of China separating their seemingly completely unrelated lives. Different personalities, same feelings. Speaking of China, it turns out the guys really knew what they were dealing with with the whole Taijitu philosophy. Yin and yang. Thirteen and Cameron. Darkness and light. Equal, complementary opposites that act as two parts forming a whole in harmony and support all order of existence. Where does one begin and the other end?

_So much more going on__, no denying_

_But I know I'm not standing alone_

It had been seven days since Thirteen shed unexplainable tears from nowhere when Cameron left in the morning. Unexplainable because this was a relationship that left no place for emotions other than Remy's passion or Allison's tenderness. Tears were not allowed and if, by any chance, some were to consider making an appearance on this stage, then they were supposed to make it on Cameron's half, not hers, not ever.

It was an agreement in which both played their part and they played it well, like the best of actresses. It was obvious which was which; when Thirteen called Allison, speaking with fake unworldliness as if she were advertising a detergent, it was rough. It was pure and primal and animal-like and it was painful and Cameron couldn't care less because she could have Remy and she would take what she could get. When Cameron called her, trying to keep her voice from breaking, it was gentle and sensual and soft and it didn't really fit, yet it felt like the most natural thing in the world. It didn't seem fair, but neither of them complained. Not out loud, if nothing else. They had one another.

Today, though, things changed. Today, Thirteen slammed her against the wall with more strength and fierceness than Cameron could fathom and made her skin crawl and put fear into her eyes. Today, Thirteen made Cameron cry.

_You've been pl__aying my mind through my wishes_

_You can feel that we're haunting the truth_

_Don't know – I can't hold on – always losing control_

"Stop it!"

And she did. She stood still like a statue, eyes locked on the wall behind her frightened companion, still gripping her arms.

"I'm sorry, I don't know what came over me—"

"What are you?" the blonde interrupted as she tried to keep herself from sobbing, mostly unsuccessfully.

_In the middle of the night_

_I don't understand what's going on_

_It's a world gone astray_

She looked into Cameron's pleading eyes and couldn't think of a single thing to say except for the obvious. "I'm really sorry."

"Let go of me!" Cameron disentangled herself from her grasp and stumbled over to the couch. Thirteen turned around; she could see fresh bruises and burn marks on her shoulder blades and the upper part of her back that was visible even with the tank top (still) on.

"I didn't mean to, I'm sorry, it just happened—"

"It _just happened_?" the older woman looked at her with searing anger she didn't try to conceal. "This doesn't _just happen_, _Thirteen_," she said with emphasis on Remy's nickname. She leaned her arms on the couch. "Do you hate me?"

_In the middle of the night_

_I can't let it end_

_So I'll keep__ searching_

_In shadows, __your life_

"I need you," she whispered brokenly.

"That doesn't rule out the other option."

"I told you this was a bad idea!" she snapped.

"And that, obviously, makes your lack of control my fault!"

"That's not what I meant!"

"Then what _did_ you mean? For Christ's sake, for once, if you could be honest with me _for just once!_" Cameron yelled in Thirteen's face. They didn't even realize they were waging a war in whose gaze could pierce the other faster until they were inches apart, as if trying to encroach on the other's oxygen supply, too.

The brunette frowned. "What do you mean? I am perfectly honest with you," she said, confusion evident in her voice.

"You're not even honest with yourself," Cameron spat. "When you realize, come see me," she said, grabbed her things haphazardly and walked out the front door without even bothering to close it behind her.

"Realize what?" Remy yelled at her, but her words would reach no one's ears.

_It will never be __in vain_

_In the middle of the night_

_In the middle of the night_

_In the middle of the night_

It had been two seconds since Remy realized she was falling for Allison.

_In the middle of the night_

_I don't understand_

_What's going on?_

_It's a world gone astray!_


	4. Faster

4. Faster

**Genre:** Cameron and Thirteen sitting in a tree… (Romance)

**Rating:** PG-13

_I can't sleep, 'cause it's burning deep inside_

_Like gasoline, a fire running wild_

_No more fear, 'cause I'm getting closer now_

_So unreal, but I like it anyhow_

"Never? You have never kissed a girl in your life? Seriously?" Thirteen asked with an amused laugh as she grabbed her tray and handed a ten dollar bill to the cashier.

"No, unlike you, I actually believe in relationships, fidelity and, you know, kissing only the people you like and not in the 'I'd hit it' way," the other doctor responded nonchalantly and went to take a seat, followed by a nosy colleague.

"So, you're telling me you never gobbled up a few shots of vodka, somehow found a girl standing in the corner suddenly appealing, and went for it?" the brunette kept interrogating her when she sat opposite her victim.

"I'm not denying the first part. Are you going to run back to House now that you've got what you wanted?" Cameron said, took a bite of fried cheese and looked up at her newfound companion expectantly.

Thirteen's lips curved into a sly smile. "I'm not spying on you for House. I just think you're hot and you should have some fun," she proclaimed, grinning.

Cameron raised her eyebrows. "So that's your pick-up line. They said you were a charmer."

Thirteen smirked. "There's a masquerade ball to be held downtown in two weeks. Why don't you go? That could suit your style; rather elegant and the probability of you waking up in a random guy's bed is significantly smaller."

The blonde eyed her suspiciously. "A masquerade ball, the culprit says. It's completely out of _your_ league, on the other hand. Are you going?"

"Even if I were, how will you know?" And with that, Remy ate the last piece of her cake and walked away, the mischievous smile never fading.

"Something is rotten in the state of Jersey…" Cameron muttered as her gaze followed Thirteen's lab coat. Fun, huh?

_And __I can't live in a fairytale of lies_

_And __I can't hide from the feeling 'cause it's right_

_And __I go faster and faster and faster and faster for life_

_And __I can't live in a fairytale of lies_

What was Thirteen talking about? Cameron had loads of fun. She could have fun anytime she wanted, with her colleagues or… bosses or… Well, maybe there was a point to some of Thirteen's nonsensical rambling. So what, it wasn't Cameron's fault. The two were as different as the moon and the sun; maybe in the same galaxy, but that was it. Cameron was never much of a partygoer; she preferred passive entertainment, such as reading or drawing silly doodles, which, most of the time, parodized whatever was on her mind. In fact, she was drawing absentmindedly right now. As her train of thought neared its final station, she stopped scribbling and looked closely at the notebook. It was Thirteen with that signature smirk of hers.

That was it, she was going.

_I go faster and faster and faster and faster and faster and faster and faster…_

To her surprise, she did actually enjoy herself that evening. Everything seemed so much more beautiful from behind a mask. Call it cowardice if you will, but the fact that everything that would happen would stay in the colors and swirls of her distinguished butterfly mask and disappear with the next day felt quite like freedom. She could unchain herself for the night and just dance. She felt as if she flew on her wings to a carnival in eighteenth century Venice and became a rich countess. While it was a lovely visual for sure, she didn't necessarily need it, either. Something was missing in this parade of patterns, tinges and hues…

"May I?" A voice dragged her out of her thoughts. There was a gloved hand reaching out to her. She looked up to see its owner; a tall, fine-looking woman wearing a plain but stunning black tux, a red tie and a cylinder hat. Her eyes were covered by a dark leather mask that slightly resembled black angel's wings around the edges. Brown locks fell loose on her shoulders and she also had a cane as if she had jumped out of a cabaret. Cameron struggled to suppress a laugh. Who else?

"Yes, you may," she answered with a polite nod and took the handsome stranger's hand, and together they walked onto the dance floor.

_I can feel that you've mesmerized my heart_

_I feel so free, I'm alive, I'm breaking out_

_I won't give in, 'cause I'm proud of all my scars_

_And I can see I've been wasting too much time_

"First time in these parts, milady?" the brunette asked as they swayed slowly, her hands on Cameron's hips and Cameron's on her shoulders. Nothing gave away that she recognized the doctor; nothing except for the tiny little hint of a smirk she couldn't conceal.

Well, two could play at this game. "Why yes, in fact. I was expecting to meet with an acquaintance of mine, but it appears I was mistaken."

"I see. And would they mind if they saw you dancing with me instead?"

Allison pressed a finger to her lips and pretended to ponder the thought for a minute. "I don't think so. She lives by the creed 'Do whatever you want with whomever you want'. Why should that not apply to me too?"

"I see," her companion repeated. "Sounds like a very open-minded individual."

"I prefer to call her a very infuriating individual," the blonde said in a low voice.

The black angel smiled and lowered her head. "The lady is always right." She paused for a while before adding, "But you like that, or am I wrong?"

"What makes you say so, stranger?"

"The fact that you seem to have listened to her advice, regardless of her attitude towards you," the brunette pointed out. "I wonder why."

The butterfly set her eyes on the deep green behind the mask. "So do I."

And here was that smirk again in full glory. Infuriating. "I might have an idea."

The brunette leaned in until their lips were barely an inch apart and Allison could feel her breath blending with her own. "Still wondering?"

Cameron was startled by her actions, but for some unknown reason, she couldn't pull back. A glimpse of panic grazed her eyes. "I wasn't lying. I never-"

"I know you weren't."

Cameron couldn't say any more as she was silenced by a certain pair of soft lips on her own.

She had to admit defeat. Remy was just _that_ good at games.

_And I can't live in a fairytale of lies_

_And I can't hide from the feeling 'cause its right_

_And I go faster and faster and faster and faster for life_

_I can't live in a fairytale of lies_

_A fairytale of lies_


	5. Fire and Ice

5. Fire and Ice

**Genre:** So. Much. Angst.

**Rating:** PG-13

**Warning:** Established Camteen and CHARACTER DEATH.

_Every word you're saying is a lie_

_ Run away, my dear_

_ But every sign will say your heart is dead_

How fleeting life is! No matter how much time has passed, it all seemed so short in these last moments, as if every second wasted would later return as years and years of torment. The future was laughing at her misery, hiding behind trees and rocks and death. She could read it in the child's lips; "Catch me! Catch me! Tag, you're it! Go ahead, play with me, catch me!" She, on the other hand, was in no mood to play. She surrendered and fell to her knees in the middle of a dark, desolate desert, clutching the stone cold grains of sand in her fingers and trying to fill the sieve even though she had come to acknowledge the futility of such pathetic actions. That's what love does to you; you never truly give up in words and deeds, even if your soul is sound asleep, awaiting resurrection. You still hang onto that last feeble straw of hope.

_ Bury all the memories_

_ Cover them with dirt_

_Where's the love we once had?_

_Our destiny's unsure_

"Do you remember that time we met in the amusement park?" Remy's entire body shook with spasms, but she still managed to speak coherently; a lone tower stricken by the earthquake.

"Don't do that. Don't start digging up old memories on me now. It would mean you're giving up! It's too early!" Cameron cried and clasped Remy's hand with her own tightly.

"Do you remember?" Remy replied, oblivious to her wife's complaints.

At that moment, Allison knew; Remy had already decided. It was over. "You were still 'Thirteen' back then," she said with a weak smile. "To me, anyway."

"You really wanted that childish zebra-shaped balloon." The brunette chuckled and immediately winced in pain when her brain sent more unwanted electric impulses through her arm. Her hand slipped out of Cameron's. "I'm sorry."

"And you got it back for me. That was very nice of you," the blonde said, smiling. She had imagined her life ending like this, forty or fifty years later, exchanging stories long forgotten with the love of her life. Instead here she was, barely in her forties, trying desperately to hold on to events quite recent. Again.

_Closer to insanity_

_Buries me alive_

_Where's the life we once had?_

_It cannot be denied_

"So you said," Remy pointed out. "Keep that memory safe when I'm gone, will you? Even if you were to forget my name or everything else I did, remember this, because getting that balloon for you is the best thing anyone has done since the invention of the light bulb and I'm damn proud of it." She paused for a moment, trying to endure more sudden, torturous cramps. "Either that, or remember the sex. Whichever you prefer."

There was one thing Cameron had to give Remy credit for; she never failed to make her laugh, even at the most ridiculously inappropriate of times. Maybe it was _because_ she would always joke at the most ridiculously inappropriate of times.

"I was there that day because I followed you, actually, thought I could… I don't know, I just went on a whim when I saw you there. Are you mad?"

"Never."

The familiar rhythmical tapping of House's cane echoed, then stopped near the crime scene. "Cameron, get out here. Don't worry, Hadley, you'll get the chick back in time for all the lovey-dovey crap you have left to say."

"House!" The blonde glared at him.

Remy grinned. He called her 'Hadley'.

_ And I still wonder_

_Why heaven has died_

_The skies are all falling_

_I'm breathing but why?_

_In silence I hold on_

_To you and I_

"I assume you've been informed about the situation. She's made up her mind," House said in a low voice when the two of them were safe behind the glass, away from Remy's pain, here to experience their own.

Cameron swallowed the lump in her throat. "I know."

"She wants you to do it."

"I know."

House looked into her sad eyes for the first time. "Do you love her enough to kill her?"

_You run away_

_You hide away_

_To the other side_

_Of the universe_

_Where you're safe from all that hunts you down_

"Allison, you don't have to," Remy persuaded when her partner returned with the syringe. "It can be someone else."

"Someone you barely know spending the last minutes of your life here with you? Over my dead body," the older doctor announced decidedly. "This is the kind of pain I can't take away like I usually do, no matter what. I'll do it your way, then," she managed to stutter before she broke into tears.

"I love you."

"I love you too."

_But the world has gone_

_Where you belong_

_And it feels too late _

_So you're moving on_

_Can you find your way back home?_

"I saw something incredible today." Gregory House was standing on the roof of the hospital, surrounded by flickering starlight, bright and dim. He hadn't been up there in ten years.

The cripple's best friend grunted in annoyance. "House, your former employee just died; someone who might have, in fact, in all her intellect, considered herself your friend, which is something I will never understand. Would you stop being an ass for one—"

"She killed her."

"And that is a good thing."

"She didn't think of the unbearable pain she was going to have to suffer for the rest of her life, not to mention she had already had enough baggage on her shoulders. She killed her because she didn't want her to be in pain. I have never seen that kind of unconditional love. I just can't believe how stupid feelings can make a person as pious and naïve as Cameron."

"You're proud of her. You're actually proud of her?" The oncologist's eyebrows shot up.

"Would you do it if it were one of your wives?" Wilson opened his mouth halfway to say something and then frowned when he pondered the question thoroughly. Amber had been a different case. They couldn't possibly have bought more time for Amber. "Precisely. People are ultimately selfish; they want their loved ones to stay as long as possible, disregard the torment they're causing by making them stay. They justify it by making an excuse, saying 'Oh but they're in love with me, they don't want to leave me yet!'" he singsonged with mocking sarcasm. "It's not true. They're in pain. Cameron knew that and she acted on the knowledge even though it went against everything she's ever stood for, even though it crushed her. I honestly didn't think she would."

Wilson nodded solemnly and recited a short prayer in his head. "It seems love conquers even the lovers in the end."

_And I still wonder_

_Why heaven has died_

_The skies are all falling_

_I'm breathing but why?_

_In silence I hold on_

_To you and I_

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Post 7x18 The Dig Note:<strong> *MINOR SPOILERS* Holy SHIT, did I just like, predict the future a few days ago? Cameron, WHERE ARE YOU! */MINOR SPOILERS And if anyone wonders why Thirteen isn't all insane in this fic, it's because it takes place before the "fatal stage" that would have ensued. Just to clear that up._  
><em>


	6. Iron

6. Iron

**Genre:** Slightly humorous romance.

**Rating:** PG-13.

_Left in the darkness_

_Here on your own_

_Woke up a memory_

_Feeding the pain_

_You cannot deny it_

_There's nothing to say_

_It's all that you need to fire away_

So much had changed in just a few seconds. Up until a week ago, she and Chase had been nothing more than colleagues; they would work together, have strictly professional dinners with the rest of the team on special occasions, and send each other cheesy Christmas cards for the sake of politeness. They'd be casual and nonchalant and they would pretend to care. No one had known anything about Thirteen's darkest little secret. Things worked. Then on New Year's Eve on the party where all employees had been invited, she found herself outside with the direct object of the aforementioned secret and due to some weird, uncalled for brain blackout, she decided to act on that secret and kiss Cameron on a whim. That would have been perfectly fine; that is, it happens, right? There's nothing strange about a colleague you work with every day having a collosal crush on your fiancée and successfully hiding it from you – and her – for months. It would have been perfectly fine…

If Chase hadn't seen them.

Oops.

Now Cameron thought she had done it on purpose and Chase considered them both "sluts" as he had said. Who could blame him? It's not every day you witness something like that happen right in front of you. She had screwed up both of their lives and she felt particularly guilty about it. Nevertheless, there was another, entirely different matter clouding her mind; she could have sworn that for the shortest of moments, the blonde had kissed her back.

She dove in head first and knew there was no turning back. So, once on the starting line, why not finish the race while you're at it? She was all the more motivated since the prize was Allison Cameron's heart. It had turned into a competition; no, a war. There was a fighting chance for the underdog, too.

She knew she had messed with Cameron's head. In fact, she counted on it.

_Oh damn, the war is coming_

_Oh damn, you feel you want it_

_Oh d__amn, just bring it on today!_

Every commander needs a good, elaborate strategy. What was hers? Walk right up to Cameron and say "I'm dying, I do drugs, I have the hots for you and I think you should dump your soon-to-be husband and the main stability in your life for someone who doesn't exactly have good reputation in terms of long-term relationships and will not stick with you for more than ten years one way or the other"? Nuh-uh, there was no way that was going to work. This matter required special treatment.

_You can't live without the fire_

_It's the heat that makes you strong_

_'Cause you're born to live and fight it all away_

She was well aware that talking things through was not one of her strong points, but she figured that if she defied her fears and conquered them, it would only make it clear to Cameron just how serious she was. Easier said than done, true, but if all else were to fail, she could always _explain_ things on top of Cameron, in her bed. Or on the couch. Kitchen counter. _Chase's_ bed. Aargh!

And that's exactly what she did; the first part, that is. Boldly, she stepped out of her car in front of Cameron's house—well, she was until she hit her head on the car door. Not the best way to start the most important few minutes of her life indeed. She cursed under her breath and then – a little less bold but still feeling rather heroic – walked up the stairs and knocked on the door, bracing herself for the yelling and probably beating from the depths of hell that was to come like a true martyr.

There was nothing except for a blank stare and a shy "hi", a while later followed by the ever polite "Won't you come in?" Checkpoint!

"I just wanted to say that I'm sorry your fiancé had to see it, but I don't regret what I did," she announced solemnly.

"You're never sorry for screwing with a girl, metaphorically and literally, are you? Where I come from, we don't touch what belongs to someone else. It's called decency."

"In my land, we respect other people's freedom enough not to openly usurp them for ourselves. It's called appreciation." Score one for Thirteen. "Meaning, I acknowledge your relationship and I never meant to cause any trouble, but what you do to me – not that it's your fault – had made me momentarily lose my mind and act solely on feelings instead of listening to my head." She shrugged. "Then again, pardon me for not believing you minded that much since you kissed back."

"I most certainly did not."

"Yes, you did."

"Did not!"

"You did!"

In times like these, there is only one way to solve a quarrel; fair combat. A ruthless, wet, sloppy duel of the tongues, to be precise, followed by a more manual battle in sheets (or on kitchen counters) in times of a tie.

She definitely kissed back this time. _Remy wins!_

_You can't hide what lies inside you_

_It's the only thing you've known_

_You'll embrace it and never walk away_

_Don't walk away!_


	7. Where is the Edge

7. Where is the Edge?

**Genre:** ANGST

**Rating:** M for rape. Do I do this too often? However, in my defense, I COULD NOT possibly write anything else for this song. I mean, have you HEARD it? My only regret is that I kind of already did write a rape!fic inspired by this song and I really did not want to write the same thing twice, so I pretty much just wanted to get this over with… consider this a drabble-esque sequel to Barbie Dolls of sorts.

_In the shadows it awakes the desire_

_But you know that you can't realize_

_And the pressure will just keep rising_

_Now the heat is on_

She couldn't believe it. She was literally unable to believe it. It just wouldn't happen. Thirteen didn't… She couldn't have just come in and fucked her life up like this. It had been just a dream. She would walk out of the locker room and possibly run into Thirteen in the lobby, give her a few weird looks and receive a frown in return. She closed her eyes in hopes of finding escape, waking up in her bed next to Robert, who would then assure her it hadn't been real and that she was safe and hug her and hold her tight. None of this happened. Instead, her mind instantly took her back a few minutes, to the point where she was trembling under Thirteen's touch and the other woman was smirking at her helplessness. No shame, no regret, no second thoughts.

_It's too late, there is no way around it_

_You will see it__ yourself many times_

_In the end you will give up the fight_

_It's unescapable_

_'Cause you're losing your mind and you sleep_

_In the heart of the lies_

She flinched and snapped back to reality; reality as it was now, consisting of four white walls and faint light and rapid, constrained breaths; twisted, fearful, painful, simply _wrong_. Nevertheless, there were no tears. She couldn't cry, she couldn't move, she just sat on the ground and stared into nothing for eternity and even longer than that because there was nothing else to do. What would she do? For what purpose?

_You can't stop yourself_

_Don't want to feel_

_Don't want to see what you've become_

And then House walked in and said something that would undoubtedly make her cry in a normal state, but there and then, she was everything but that.

Thirteen's lips on her neck and her hands underneath Cameron's shirt.

She dug her fingers into the floor and gritted her teeth. Go away, go away, go the hell AWAY!

Thirteen's fingers inside her.

She laughed. She laughed like a maniac. Then again, it was kind of funny; how could her imagination have even come up with a crazy encounter like that? It made no sense. She must have been so overworked!

She got up and, without even getting changed or grabbing her things, she went home to get some sleep. After all, it didn't matter. Thirteen had been just a dream.

_Where is the edge_

_Of your darkest emotions?_

_Why does it all survive?_

_Where is the light_

_Of your deepest devotions?_

_I pray that it's still alive_

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Posthumous Note: <strong>Heck, do I love abusing Cameron, and she's my favorite character. I make myself sad. I don't even know. I feel really damn bad now. Sorry :(


	8. Sinéad

8. Sinéad

**Genre:** Romance/Hurt/Comfort in a way, total fluff, in fact

**Rating:** PG-13

She didn't know why she was running, since there would be no difference it what was going to happen if she didn't hurry. She might even have time to think it through, to be rational. However, right now there was one and only one thing running through her head; _Sorry. Sorry. Sorry. Sorry._ She might as well have been trying to outrun it.

_I've gotta try_

_It's not over yet_

_No signals of love_

_Have you left?_

She was running for her life. Even at night she could see clearly. She could see what she wanted, the image almost hanging in the air in front of her, and she was trying to capture it, but when her hand touched it, it faded away, only to reappear right after.

_My heart is bleeding just for you_

_Bleeds for only you_

She collapsed in front of the door, her breathing rapid and shallow due to her trying to replenish her lungs with oxygen. Breathe in, breathe out, in, out. She took a minute to collect herself before getting up and knocking on the door tentatively, suddenly unsure.

_And it hurts to know the truth_

A feeble but comforting light illuminated her face and the angelic figure of Dr. Allison Cameron appeared at the threshold, surprise written in her features.

_This second chance, I know, won't last_

_But it's OK_

_Got no regrets_

Thirteen looked directly into her lover's eyes without hesitation or second thoughts. She felt confident and decided to grab her possibly last chance by the throat. "I know I have no right to ask anything of you. You were always there for me and I wasn't there for you. I'm sorry. I know I screwed up. I want—I want you to take me back, but you have every right to decline. I respect that. Even if you do, I want to tell you I will never ever take ever another pill ever again. It was a mistake. I don't need it anymore. I'll never go down that road again. I took an oath," she blurted out at once. She paused for a while to see if there would be any reaction except for the blank, shocked stare. "I'm sorry. I know it's selfish of me to come falling at your door begging for forgiveness like a silly kid. Then again, I also know you like silly," she let out a nervous giggle in hopes of easing the situation.

_And I, I feel the end here_

_I'm a fool_

_Getting closer_

_But I'm doing what I should_

The blonde looked away and frowned, her hand resting on the door frame.

"So I, uh, guess I should, I should go. Yeah. I'm sorry. I'll go. This is stupid," Thirteen mumbled and turned to leave.

"I never had a problem with you taking drugs. Well, I mean, obviously I did, but I've come to acknowledge your past. I've dealt with it. I know your reasons. What bothers me is the fact that you felt you had no one to turn to. You trusted the pills more than you trusted me," a voice behind her said.

Remy stopped in her tracks and covered her face with her hand. It hadn't even occurred to her. But this was Cameron. This was the only one who cared. She had made such a fool of herself!

"Will I always have to remind you I'm here?" came the broken whisper.

The brunette turned back to face the other woman, who was now looking at her hesitantly, afraid of what she would see, afraid of the response to come. Her eyes were glazed, lashes tangled with tears. She gulped down the lump in her throat. "No, you won't."

Cameron walked down the steps, never once tearing her gaze away from Thirteen's, examining, searching for verification; the truth. The other didn't look away, didn't falter or hold back. The blonde smiled. "Silly, silly Thirteen." She pressed her lips to Thirteen's and all was forgiven as the moon sang and the stars danced and the lamplights flickered happily.

Remy Hadley didn't go back home that night. She was already there.

_Oh Sinéad,_

_It's the first time_

_Only you can set it free!_

_Oh Sinéad,_

_Come break away with me!_


	9. Lost

9. Lost

**Genre:** Angstangstangstyangst**  
><strong>

**Rating:** PG-13

_My hope is on fire_

_My dreams are for sale_

_I dance on a wire_

_I don't want to fail her_

"Come on, Allison, you haven't even talked to me today." The Australian's accent was as thick as ever, or maybe it was that he spoke while chewing on a steak bite. Manners be damned, you couldn't blame him; it was delicious, his own cooking, juicy and crispy in just the right ratio. Normally, the aforementioned woman would give up much for a piece of it. Normally.

"That's not true," she mumbled in a not too convincing manner, picking at her share of dinner.

"What is it about you women, I wonder. When you're down, you want us to help, but you won't tell us what's wrong, and then when we give up, you get angry! I guess we were never meant to understand each other; it's like talking to a different species at times. Look, I've had a long day too. When you decide you want to confide in me, I'll be in the bedroom." He finished the meal, got up to put the empty plate in the dishwasher, and left, leaving Allison alone with a candle and the cold wind blowing in through an open window. She barely noticed.

_She's lost in the darkness_

_Fading away_

_I'm still around here_

_Screaming her name_

Actually, her train of thought was wandering around similar lines. What was it about that woman? She was sassy, arrogant, rebellious, irresponsible, rude, antisocial, all around shameless, yet she kept occupying Cameron's mind. She was rude even as a soulless image! Who would creep in and invade your secrecy like that? Downright ignorant, that's what she was.

_Allison, stop. Stop trying to uncover every mystery and reform everything to your liking. It doesn't work. Go to bed. Go snuggle up to your husband and dream of rainbows._ Unexpectedly, the idea alone made her stomach do a backflip. She realized she was being just like House – obsessed with the unknown. It was annoying.

_She's haunting my dreamworld_

_Trying to survive_

_My heart is frozen_

_I'm losing my mind_

She rubbed her red eyes. She hadn't slept well in days, ever since the party at the hospital. _Not that…_ Where she had been with Thirteen. _Shut up!_ And the brunette had been watching her. _Go to hell!_ And all of a sudden, Cameron had thought about taking her outside and confessing to her. _Confessing what?_ But the view had been quickly replaced by a very pleasant visual involving the two of them and an exam room. _Pleasant?_

She shivered from head to toe. Must be the wind, she thought and got up to close the window. She sighed as she glanced at the lifeless street. Not even bugs could be bothered to fly around the gloomy lamps. Then she blinked when she noticed an irritatingly familiar brown-haired figure, looking obscenely drunk, walking – stumbling – hand in hand with a gothic female freak show, no less, all dressed up in an inappropriately revealing black outfit; then again, the other woman might have just already torn off the rest in the bar they had undoubtedly walked out of minutes ago. Cameron thought of Tim Burton.

She shut the blinds and went to snuggle up to her husband and dream of rainbows. Tall, dark, messed up, charmingly beautiful rainbows.

_Help me, I'm buried alive!_


	10. Murder

10. Murder

**Genre:** Crime/Tragedy

**Rating:** M for, duh, murder and character death and character abuse.

_I've been around these vicious lies too_

_Too long to be neglecting the truth_

_I'm getting closer and I'm fully armed_

People want to do important things in life. Things that have a meaning. Everyone always imagines themselves in the White House or Bill Gates' seat or in a hospital, treating others, giving them their lives back. Do they always have to be good, morally right things, though? They want them to be so that they'd have a reason to be proud of themselves even if what they've accomplished isn't what they truly wanted. She was lucky enough to realize this first and think of herself. All that mattered was that by taking matters into her own hands, she could alter the very foundations of someone else's life drastically before it was time to go, she could leave her mark on them to remind them of her with every day that would pass by, like the itch you can't scratch, the splinter you can't get out. A mark of pain? Possibly. Horror? It was more than probable. Salvation? Without a doubt. And that was what mattered.

She wasn't doing it for herself, she was doing it for Cameron. She could spend the next five to ten years helping people she didn't give a damn about and would never see again, diagnosing what any other doctor could diagnose instead, or she could help one of the few characters in the imaginary journal of her life she actually cared about by doing what only she could– was willing to do. There was nothing complicated about an equation such as this one. In the end, life is indeed all about setting your priorities, something she had always thought was just teacher talk.

_I'm about to hunt you down through_

_The big black hole right behind you_

_And I'm about to cut your wings away_

Trying to approach Cameron was like bungee jumping; the closer she got to the edge, the more her subconscious kept whispering in her ear: "You don't want this." She had been bound to stop walking at one point or another, but before she did, she could see there was another person about to jump; except she had no parachute, her face was tear-stained and her eyes blackened by despair. "You definitely don't want this," the voice kept saying. And she obeyed; she stepped down. Nevertheless, she couldn't help it but look back at the other person every now and then to see if she was still standing, going up, or going... down.

At first it was just what House liked to call "an unusually long period, or a suprising lack of period. Or womanhood itself." Then the slight disturbances in an otherwise perfectly stable environment materialized in the form of bruises on Cameron's wrists she could see when the doctor's sleeves betrayed her for a few tiny glimpses. Then Cameron started wearing scarfs, in the spring. Until one day she didn't come to the hospital as the head of the ER, all ready to fix up cracked skulls and fingers cut off; she arrived as a patient with two broken ribs.

_'Cause I've been finding out_

_Where you've broken in_

_And I will take you out_

_When I close you in_

Of course, Thirteen wasn't the only one who noticed. It was blatantly obvious to anyone who knew her, but most of those people had their own glasses full of shit enough to be able to make the decision not to watch a colleague deteriorate on a one way ticket to the depths of hell with their conscience as clear as crystal. House liked analyzing the situation, but that was it. Thirteen was partially grateful, though; what would they do, call the cops? A bunch of incompetent idiots who would lock Chase up for a few days, then let him leave, go off ranting about the injustice that's been done to him so he could finish what he'd started. No, this was her job; to do something meaningful for someone who meant something. No more, no less.

_I'm about to do it your way_

_I will make your world unsafe_

_I never thought you'd get this far, sensei_

She didn't want to jump off the cliff. She didn't want to get close to Cameron. She didn't want Cameron to get close to her. However, no person in her proximity was insane enough to even think of getting up there, which left her alone standing there as the only person who could at least throw Cameron a rope. Or rush heroically to catch her when she falls. Not that she would. Because she wouldn't.

_You don't believe what all the signs say_

_I don't believe in judgment day_

_But you won't be leaving here unharmed_

As she stepped over the threshold, she wondered how many laws she had already broken and how long her sentence would be. Stealing keys, breaking into someone's house at night under the false pretense of breaking into a completely different patient's house to look for potential sources of environmental infection, that was just the beginning.

_I'm killing them all_

_I put my soul on the line_

_I purify sins_

_That I committed in life_

She found his drunken ass passed out on the living room couch, the empty bottle still in his grip. He stank like a decaying corpse already.

Killing a killer. What a paradox! Chase was a murderer himself. He knew what it felt like. He had killed as well, two times, body and soul, and now she was there to make him pay, as much as she would pay herself. But in contrast with him, she was ready to face the consequences.

He didn't even feel the needle.

_You can't feel the pain_

_I scream in vain_

_You sink away_

_To the bottom_

With the syringe in the sewer, they wouldn't know. There were no fingerprints. There was no record of anyone taking a lethal dose of Pavulon from the hospital. The only keys beside Chase's were in Cameron's bag, but she had been bedridden at the time of death, wasn't she? And Thirteen? Thirteen had been with her boss and colleagues, doing what doctors do.

They'd find out once. And when they would, she'd be there. This way, at least, with Chase out of the picture, maybe Cameron's cliff wouldn't seem so high.

"Have you heard the news yet? Chase is dead." An obligatory honorific pause. "You were gone for a long time," House said, looking at his subordinate with worry and suspicion, nothing like his usual attitude.

"Yeah. I was."

Their eyes locked.

Thirteen left the office.

_So where will you go_

_When I will murder your soul?_


	11. A Demon's Fate

11. A Demon's Fate

**Genre:** General? No, really, nothing happens in this one. I don't even know why I wrote it.

**Rating: **PG-13

**Warning: **Implied House/Cameron and House/13 father/daughter friendship because I'm a sucker for both. D'aww.

_You'll burn this time_

_Seeing the violence_

_It's speeding my mind_

_No one is saving you_

_How can you find_

_A heaven in this hell?_

The clicking of heels grew louder until it stopped all of a sudden; then it changed into a slow tapping as the brunette stepped in place, looking for her target in the midst of flying bandages and nurses running about. Finally, she found it, stitching up a nasty cut on a patient's arm. She cleared her throat. "Dr. Cameron, we have a patient in diagnostics with—"

"That would be no."

"You didn't even let me—"

"Still a no," the blonde cut her off again without even looking at her once. "House doesn't need me, he wants to screw with me, and contrary to popular belief, I won't let that happen. I thought you were smarter than to be his lap dog."

"Okay." Thirteen shrugged and turned to leave.

Cameron frowned. "Okay? That's it? No blackmailing, no loud screaming of my darkest secrets?" she asked incredulously.

"I'm not House's lap dog."

_Angels have faith_

_I don't want to be a part of his sin_

_I don't want to get lost in his world_

_I'm not playing this game_

She was exhausted and the prospect of several more hours of work did not exactly cheer her up. She groaned under her breath as she walked into the supply closet to get some clean gloves and syringes.

"They're in the uppermost shelf," a voice said from behind her.

Cameron jumped and spun around to see Thirteen standing in the corner with her arms crossed over her chest. "Good God, are you _following_ me? Go back to where you came from!"

"Dr. Cameron, I should inform you that I am an adult and therefore capable of making that decision for myself," the brunette retorted, glaring at her.

"Yet you follow the orders of a misanthropic bastard."

"Would you shut up about House already!" the brunette yelled.

Cameron was taken aback by her colleague's sudden outburst. "Well, you can't possibly blame me for being suspicous," she pointed out as she took a cautious step back.

"I'm not here because of him."

"Then why _are_ you here?"

"Are you in love with him?"

Cameron blinked; she didn't anticipate such a question, especially from someone like Thirteen. Why would House care if he had sent her? Why would she care? Moreover, she didn't know how to react. She rolled the question back and forth in her head before answering. "No. Are you?"

"No!"

"Then what in the world is your problem?" Cameron was getting desperate.

The brunette sighed and buried her face in her hands. It was just so hard to explain and she was never good with words!

_What have you done?_

_Is this what you wanted?_

_What have you become?_

_Your soul's now forsaken_

_You're walking alone_

_From heaven into hell_

She finally made eye contact. "I just need you to be honest with me. Please," she said, looking up at the older doctor with pleading eyes.

Cameron gave her a slight, hesitant nod.

"Are you in love with him?"

It was Cameron's turn to sigh. She ran her fingers through her hair. "I don't know. Sometimes I think I do and then he does something incredibly stupid and hurtful and I give myself a mental slap and think that I'm an idiot for even letting that option cross my mind. I don't know whether I feel that way because a retarded little part of me believes I could bring out the good in him, or because I don't want to, because what he does is what makes him appealing. He's just… House. He does things," she tried to explain what she understood little of herself as she paced back and forth. "How do you feel about him?" she asked with curiosity.

Silence.

"He understands," came the answer after a while. When the blonde tilted her head to the side and kept staring at Remy, she realized she was supposed to say more. "Me and House are more similar than you might think, I just like to think of myself as a more well-adjusted person than him. I have _certain problems_ he knows about and even though he continuously makes my life hell because of them, when things get serious, he gives me advice, in his own messed up way." She zoned out for a moment, staring into nothing. "It's funny how someone can shape our lives so extensively but still be unable to do anything about his own."

_When the shadows remain_

_In the light of day_

_On the wings of darkness _

_He'll retaliate_

_He'll be falling from grace_

_Until the end of all his days_

Cameron said nothing and let her words sink in. It was true that anyone who had ever seen Gregory House could never forget him; mostly because of that snarky attitude of his, true, but the people closest to him were affected in an entirely different way. His bitter truth, as painful as it was, usually made a person learn things about themselves. In the end, he was barely more than a teacher.

Then Cameron frowned as she realized. "So why exactly did you need to know this if it's not one of his tricks?"

"I like you," Thirteen said plainly, smiled and rushed out with fake nonchalance like the troublesome kid she was.

Cameron blinked in confusion. "'_I like you,_'" she repeated in a deep voice as she – at last – reached for the box in the uppermost shelf. "What was that all about?" she muttered.

_Now that you know_

_Your way in this madness_

_Your powers have grown_

_Your chains have been broken_

_You suffered so long_

_You will never change_

As she walked back to her office, she was stopped by the side of a cane bumping into her stomach. She rolled her eyes at her second unwanted visitor of the day.

"As much as I'd love you two to get it on and take pictures I could then show Cuddy to make her embrace her newfound homosexuality and have a threesome with the two of you under the pretense of firing you if you don't subject to her sadistic needs, I… Wait a minute, what was I saying? Right, as much as I'd approve of that, Thirteen is complicated. She has problems, but before you go all sunshine and puppies on her, you should talk to her or you'll both get your asses kicked by your mutual stupidity." House looked into her eyes for the first time. "She needs you and I need my employees to be able to do their job without disappearing on me for hours at a time, unless they go have sex in the supply closet, which I might tolerate based on the target. If it's really good, I might even give them a raise."

He didn't even wait for a response. "By the way, she totally has a picture of you in her locker," he yelled as he limped away to the elevators, leaving a very, very confused Cameron standing dumbfounded in the middle of the hallway.

What?

What the hell, it's House we're talking about. He does things.

_From the ashes and hate_

_It's a cruel demon's fate_

_On the wings of darkness_

_He's returned to stay_

_There will be no escape_

'_Cause he's fallen far from grace_

* * *

><p><strong>Author's <strong>**Posthumous Note:** I seriously have no idea what this is supposed to mean; it's basically four pages of nothing. I wholeheartedly apologize for the shittiness of this part. I am suffering from a serious lack of ideas by now; interestingly enough, the fics get longer the less I know what to write. Two more to go…


	12. Stairway to the Skies

12. Stairway to the Skies

**Genre:** Romance

**Rating:** Come on, this isn't even PG-13.

_Seven seconds __to the rise_

_Can't believe I'm still alive_

_And heaven was waiting for me_

"Thirteen, are you paying attention is your mind still in bed with that blonde you did yesterday night? Oops, I'm sorry, I didn't know it was a secret," House remarked with a hearty amount of sarcasm as he watched the youngest member of his team zoning out. He smacked his cane on the table for better impact, making Thirteen jump.

"What?" she asked, slightly startled.

"Look, not that it's a bad thing or anything, but it's not what I'm paying you for… here." He winked at her playfully. Foreman shook his head.

"As a matter of fact, it's not you who's paying me," the brunette pointed out. "And yesterday night, I was doing a redhead. Know your facts." She looked at the file with a sigh and the honest intention of reading it; it just faded away as soon as first letters popped out screaming at her, each trying to be more visible than the rest. No family history of…

_I thought this would be the end_

_But I know you'll understand_

_All that is keeping me here_

Finally, the shift was over. It must have been the worst, longest day in the history of mankind. Not because of House's constant comments or the unbearable boredom of diagnosing epilepsy; more so because of the event that was to take place in… five minutes. Five minutes of watching the longer hand of the clock near number six. Almost there… Just a little… Come on…

_I dream of a stairway to the skies_

_My angel is coming down from heaven to take me_

Cameron found her leaning on the nurses' station in the lobby.

"You're late," Thirteen said accusingly.

The blonde doctor raised her eyebrows. "Three minutes. Are you really that anxious?"

The other woman shrugged and blushed a little, which she tried to mask by attempting to scare the floor away by glaring at it. "Thanks. For giving me the chance, I mean. I appreciate it," she said when she looked back up. She sounded like she had rehearsed the 'speech' in front of her mirror for the past few days.

Cameron just smiled her innocent little smile. She didn't judge, nor did she expect. "Let's go."

It's been a while since the world had gotten to see a smile as genuine as this one from the infamous number Thirteen. "I'm right behind you."

_I reach out but then you fade away_

_Whenever you call for me_

_Know that I'm only one step behind__!_

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Final Note:<strong> My god, this was a ride! I had loads of fun with this. Hope you did too! :) See you next time and thanks for reading! And remember, reviews are **love**._  
><em>


	13. The Last Dance

**A/N:** This was born as a birthday piece for a friend, and from the fluff it was intended to be it escalated, well... somewhere else _entirely_. Also, I need to stop having Thirteen tell stories all the time, I seriously do. Since it's also based on a WT song from The Unforgiving - the thirteenth one, _touché_ - I thought I'd just add it to the rest as a little bonus. Enjoy the angst!**  
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><p><strong>The Last Dance<strong>

_She sang for you last night  
>She heard you were calling<br>Burning in tears a thousand times  
>Your spirit was floating<br>The spirit was searching  
>On a cloud of dreams<em>

The sound that came out of Thirteen's mouth was somewhat of a crossover between a wailing banshee and a chainsaw in action. Grumbling to herself, she reached for the adjacent pillow and forced it to her ears, burying her head in the sheets. However, in a brief moment of waking consciousness, Remy realized just what it was that woke her up. Frowning, she fumbled around the bed and finally decided there was no escape from getting up when her hand didn't find what it was looking for. There went her plans to be the first one awake on Cameron's birthday.

Stumbling through the darkness – an activity one would say she had grown quite skilled at during her life in a metaphorical sense, she thought with a bitter scoff – the brunette headed through the hallway to the apparent source of the noise, even though a part of her already knew what she would find. Sure enough, when she turned on the light in the kitchen, there Cameron was, sitting in a desert of broken glass and spilt alcohol. Her movements were rapid and uncoordinated as she started spewing out apologies faster than a government official running late on Bribe Your Favorite Politician Day, attempting to hide her bleeding hand behind the curls of her nightgown. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to wake you up. I'm sorry. I dropped the glass. Go back to sleep. I'll just clean this up. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to swear out loud. No, I'm not bleeding. What are you talking about?

"Allison, you were drinking rum in the middle of the night. With _milk,_" Thirteen remarked, pointing at the mixed liquid from hell all over the floor. Her eyes were still adjusting to the sharp light, as were Cameron's, but she knew they'd better get used to it real quick because there was no way she would get a good night's sleep tonight. She tiptoed through the mess and despite the blonde's protests sat her down on a chair before running off for the first aid kit. "Why?" she then continued as if there hadn't been a minute pause between her sentences as she inspected the cut on Allison's palm.

Cameron shuffled and sighed. Onward to embarrassment. "It's nothing; I just had a bad dream."

_A moon beam shines bright in the city of angels  
>Guiding the dreamers back to life<br>And they'll do the same every tomorrow  
>Till the pain subsides<em>

"What kind of dream?" Thirteen probed, taking in Cameron's disheveled appearance. Allison was a woman inside out, no doubt, but at times like these the only way to describe her was as a girl, frightened and desperately trying to hide her fears. And that was wrong; Remy was supposed to be strong for Allison, not the other way around. This was all wrong. She had been crying, that much was obvious, but the second the lights were on it was as if her freedom to cry had been taken from her and as punishment, walls and more walls of bricks and roses began to build around her at a steady pace so that the world wouldn't have to see her tears. Or Thirteen, for that matter; because Cameron had no right to cry or be this selfish in front of her, really. None. In front of anyone else, perhaps, but not Remy, not after what she'd been through.

"I, uh," Cameron stuttered, fidgeting with her cut-free hand, "There was a spider. Um, a giant spider, and it wanted to kill me and I woke up," she mumbled, her voice going up in a pitch towards the end.

Now, Remy knew Allison suffered from slight arachnophobia, but she wasn't stupid. No, something major must have caused Allison to drink _rum with milk, _of all things sacred (a combination Remy knew she despised, and one she wasn't particularly fond of herself) at four in the morning. It could have as well been Cameron's idea of self-punishment and Remy would have none of that, not today, not ever. Luckily for her, the ER doctor was a terrible, lousy liar. Always had been. "Are you lying?"

Allison winced; whether it was from the sting of the antiseptic or something else, one couldn't tell. "Yes," she whispered inaudibly, avoiding eye contact.

_Don't be scared now  
>Close your eyes<br>She holds guard tonight  
>Go on forward<br>No remorse  
>Life will take its course<em>

"Listen, you don't have to tell me if you don't want to. That's okay. But we need to get you back in bed, sweetie, okay? We'll clean this up in the morning. If you stay up, you'll just be repeating it in your head over and over," said Thirteen upon gently wrapping Allison's hand in a sterile bandage. The quirk of her eyebrow inwards was barely there at all, but her worries expanded to much greater lengths on the inside. This was the first time this had happened since they had started dating a year ago. What if she couldn't do anything about it? She already owed Cameron a fortune; for caring, for not only being there, but for staying too. Shaking off her doubts, she led the petite blonde back in their bedroom and wrapped her lithe form in her arms. "Would a bedtime story help?"

Seeing as Thirteen was wide awake now, Cameron nodded, snuggling into her girlfriend and burying her nose in Remy's neck. "Mmh, only if you make it a happy one," she murmured, even though she knew, somewhere at the back of her mind, that no stories could help her tonight. But she couldn't afford to let Remy know how broken she was. How rude would it be, to express such sadness in front of the one who had unwillingly caused it, the one whose burden was so much greater?

_She danced with you last night so you will remember  
>All you have shared, a lifetime<br>The angels were watching and death will be waiting  
>Until the time is right<em>

Thirteen smiled to herself; she loved Cameron's little moments of childish vulnerability. To her, Cameron was a beacon in the dark, a living, walking, breathing proof that unspoiled puerile values didn't always have to dissipate in a puff of smoke with age, that sometimes, hope wouldn't die. If she were more like Cameron, always so young, perhaps she, too, could live forever. "Okay. Once upon a time, there was a beautiful fair maiden. She wasn't a princess, because there were no princesses in the land she came from, but she lived in a place more beautiful than any castle; a wild blue rose." She could feel Allison chuckle against her shoulder and, satisfied with this accomplishment thus far, ran her fingers soothingly through blonde curls. "The thing was, being so high above the ground, the maiden could only talk to other rose maidens. They weren't bad or anything, but one time the maiden caught a glimpse of a wandering minstrel below. You see, the minstrel would walk through these parts often, but his tales had never reached the maiden's ears; she could only hear her neighbors in bluebells talking about him, or her, she didn't know. She was too scared to come down and listen to the minstrel herself because she thought she could never get back home, so she admired the artist from afar in her loneliness."

_Don't be scared now  
>Close your eyes<br>She holds guard tonight  
>Go on forward<br>No remorse  
>Life will take its course<em>

"Then one night, she could see the minstrel approaching again, but she couldn't hear any of the songs. She was trying so hard to find out what the story was that she fell over a petal and off the rose." She paused, knowing very well how she was going to handle this plot twist, but relishing in giving Allison that one moment of suspense.

"Did she die?" the blonde finally asked, voice trembling with worry and the still beating heart of whatever monster had haunted her dreams.

"No, of course she didn't. In fact, the minstrel saw it happen and caught her just in time. The maiden could see that the bard was actually a woman from a faraway lake where she had lived in solitude in a water lily. The minstrel was a writer, but a writer without a muse and imagination. When she realized she couldn't write anymore, she decided to wander through the land in search of someone who would listen to her stories and help her find new ideas. Now the maiden didn't have any ideas herself, but she knew just what would help, and in return for saving her life, she offered to take the minstrel up on her rose – if they could find a way, that is. Fortunately for them, a firefly flew past. It was said that fireflies were attracted to light – not just ordinary light, but light of the soul. It was said that light of the fireflies reflected the light of the souls they had met. Maybe it's true, maybe it isn't, but in any case, the firefly noticed the pair in the darkness and gladly brought them up to the maiden's rose. There, the maiden showed the minstrel the entire world, the way she could see it every day."

Midway through the story, Thirteen noticed Cameron's breathing had become slow and even, and so, suspecting she had fallen back asleep, lowered her voice to an almost whisper, still gently stroking her hair. Her other hand went to Allison's wound between them, the pads of her fingers brushing against it, taking her back to wondering what demon had possessed the fair maiden. She made a promise to herself that night in the dark; that the cuts would heal. All of them. In the morning, she would fix it. "The minstrel stared in awe at the beauty of the world from above and knew in that instant she never wanted to leave the maiden's side for as long as she lived. The two fell in love and never returned to the ground again. And every night, the wild blue rose shone brighter than ever."

When there was no response from Allison, the brunette smiled, placed a kiss on her forehead and laid herself to rest as well. Little did she know of the shadows haunting Allison at that very moment; the shadows reminding her, with each passing minute, that today marked the day she became one year closer to losing Remy forever. So Allison let herself be numbed by Thirteen's voice and words, because how cruel would she be to let her fears be known?

_Hold on to memories  
>See what lies ahead<br>Life will go on, and we are one  
>With every step you take<em>


End file.
